Its been a pretty busy few months since my father passed away.  And to be honest, since I put The Man out of my life, I thought it was time to take a step back, not date anyone, age appropriate or otherwise for a while.

You know, just enjoy being with the children, having a drink at my local with friends and all that.

While I love cougar dating at Toyboy Warehouse and never took my profile down, even when dating The Man (that should have told me something right there!), for almost a year now, I have not really been shall we say an ‘active’ member.

But, the other night, I was bored and thought, hey let’s see what kind of toyboys are on the site at the moment.

And I, as ya’ll know, never message first.  My view is, let the gentleman or the toyboy make the first move.  I am also picky as can be, so most messages I get go unanswered.

Looking through some profiles, one immediately caught my eye.  It was a good picture with an even better profile.  Someone it seemed that genuinely wanted to meet an older woman and have a relationship with her, not just a drink, dinner and some NSA fun.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, its just not what I want these days.

Lord help me, I winked at him.

Lame to wink, I know, but I just couldn’t be bothered to write a message.  If he was interested and worth his salt, he would write me a message.  And damn if he didn’t about two minutes later.

It was straight to the point.  Love your profile, let’s talk.  And I emailed him my number.

He called later that evening.  Within a minute he had me laughing out loud until my tummy hurt.  He had just gotten back from a holiday in one of my favourite places in the Carribbean.  The banter flowed and the phone was crackling with chemistry.

He sounded delicious and naughty and warm and totally my kind of guy.  Part of me was like, this is wonderful.

After about twenty minutes he was like, when are we having a drink.

I said good question.

Hells bells ya’ll, its Christmas party season and already I am like, how the hell am I going to go to all these parties I have invites for without going bankrupt paying the manny?!?

As gorgeous as he sounded, he could turn out to be a total looser weirdo sex addict and I do not waste good babysitting money on that.

There was only night I could meet him in the next three weeks.

And he was like o….kaaaaaayyyyy.  Surprised that I didn’t want to meet him straight away I am sure.  He said, well then where shall we meet.  I suggested my neighbourhood.  He suggested his.

Erm, no darling.  I don’t deliver.  If you want to meet me, you come to my side of town and we’ll take it from there.

That didn’t sit well with his gorgeous, sexy alpa male ego at all.  He actually expected me to go to his side of town!

And that was when I got the distinct feeling I was actually not chatting on the phone from my chic little flat in West London with the potential toyboy of my dreams, but actually from somewhere in China.

Red flags were being hoisted up flagpoles all over my mind.

It’s a shame really because he reminded me of a young T-Rex, who, like it or not, set the bar pretty high.

Just imagine, a toyboy with all the good bits of the T-Rex.  The chemistry, the partner in crime click, the charisma, the warmth, the sexiness, the it, it, it, it, it.

Heaven.  It would be utter Heaven.

But he kept on about me meeting him in his neighbourhood and the conversation started to wane.

Sorry mate, but do I look or sound like a pizza delivery guy?

Yeah, China or London, Toyboy or Toxic Bachelor, a red flag is a red flag girls.


Ms. Magnolia


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